I wish, like Murakami, I could decide to run, decide to be a writer, then go out and run marathons and write surreal novels that turn into international bestsellers.
Instead, I run my short-distance routes and trails. And write blog posts.
Don’t get me wrong. I like my runs – Crissy Field on weekends, around Glen Park and into Noe Valley for shorter jogs, down to the Berkeley marina after work. It might seem boring to run the same routes over and over again, but I enjoy the familiarity. It’s meditative.
The first was the Albany Waterfront Trail, a path that leads out through a grassy area onto what was once a landfill. At the end of the trail, on a desolate spit of sand, we were surprised by a huge metal sculpture of what looked to be a woman, her palms and face turned up to the sky. As we walked along the beach we saw sculpture after sculpture, including an enormous dragon. I felt like Charlton Heston in Planet of the Apes coming upon the Statue of Liberty – it was as though we found the remnants of some lost civilization.
We also ran in Tilden Park, along a ridge that ultimately gave us beautiful views of the Bay and the hazy outline of the Golden Gate Bridge. That’s one thing I love about living here – turning corners on trails and getting unexpected glimpses of the Bay and seeing the outline of the San Francisco skyline and that iconic bridge.